Wednesday, December 21, 2022

A Winter Poem from my Past

My mom passed away after I had barely published a single poem, and before I had completed any of my novels. So it gives me great joy that some 20 years later, an old poem that she loved of mine has finally found a home in the 2022 edition of Northern Narratives. An ode to Orion:


In Seasons of Snow 


 I waited for you

At the edge of a lake,

A frozen space

Outside the city’s glare.

Earthbound, I scrambled down

An ice-glossed jetty—

Searched crisp-gemmed skies

That only winter keeps.


My eyes snagged

On the loop of your belt,

Three stars strong.

My mist tinged bright

By moon

As I sounded you out

Off a single breath:



Pursuer of the Pleiades,

Scorpion’s stalker,

Giant Hunter—

I, too, have become

A huntress, and in

Seasons of snow

I ransack the stars

To flesh you out.


I would be your Artemis—

But my arrow would be no accident,

Nor tipped with killing head.

Accept my heart into your breast,

A weak ember next to your fierce

Magnitude of light, yet even so

I would add my high-shot scintilla

To the bonfire of your strength.

I'm not this girl anymore. I've aged, or rather edged, more into weariness than wonder as the years have piled on. But I hope my heart will never forget the starlit gladness thrown into the sky by nature every night. My mom had a beautiful Rabindranath Tagore quote I try to always remember: "If you cry when the sun is gone, you won't see the stars." 

As this year ends, may we all find those little starry joy-gems in our life that rekindle our hearts.